


Sober Up

by Finnijer



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Withdrawal, F/M, Hank mostly gets sick and stays in bed all day, Hank wants to be a better person, I’m not an expert, Not Beta Read, Reader and Connor are all on board, Reader has a crush, Reader was a party girl lol, Some symptoms mentioned, Vomit Mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 11:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16094399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finnijer/pseuds/Finnijer
Summary: Story Prompt:I was wondering if you could do a hankxreader but with hank as he’s trying to quit drinking and you take care of him while Connor is working.





	Sober Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [omen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/omen/gifts).



“I don’t need a damn babysitter.”

“She’s not a babysitter, Lieutenant. She’s our friend and neighbor.” Connor furrows his brows.

You bite your lip to hide your smile. You’ve been Hank’s neighbor for about three, four years. You’ve been friends with him for a while now, especially since Connor moved in with him. Hank is currently sitting at his kitchen table with you and Connor standing in front of him. You can already see a light sweat starting on Hank’s forehead. Connor was right to call you over.

“It’s only for the day,” you smile. “Just to make sure you’re alright. I’m off anyways.”

Hank rolls his eyes and looks towards the kitchen window.

“I quit before.” He grumbles. “It’s not like this is rocket science.”

Hank stopped drinking yesterday according to Connor; cold turkey because well, it’s Hank. Connor told you he planned to help Hank with AA, Etc. Of course, Hank wanted to try his way first. He noticed the Lieutenant’s vitals began mimicking that of withdrawal symptoms this morning and became worried. Since Connor had to go in to work, he asked you to stay with Hank.

“Yeah but,” you start before Connor can lecture him, “it doesn’t hurt if I’m here. I think we’ll be fine Con.”

You give Connor a smile. His LED flashes yellow for a moment, looking between you and Hank.

“I’m going to head out. Please call me if you need my assistance. I’ll be home tonight.” With a nod, Connor started to the door.

“Damn Android worries too damn much.” Hank grumbles when Connor exits the house.

“It’s called caring, Hank.” You tease.

“Yeah, whatever.”

The first two hours are uneventful. Hank moves to the living room, playing a random movie on the tv while you entertain Sumo. You keep noticing Hank wipe at his brow.

“You okay, Hank?” You finally ask, rubbing Sumo’s belly. The big fluffy dog laid on his back in front of you as you sat on the floor.

“Yeah. I just. Need some water I guess.”

He motions to get up but you’re already on your feet. Sumo barks at you, disappointed his belly is no longer getting attention. You grab a bottle of water from the fridge after a moment of searching.

“Thanks,” he doesn’t look you in the eyes as he takes the water.

Hank looks pale and his hands shake. You know what’s about to happen before he even gets done taking a swing of water. You’ve went to enough parties in college to know ‘the look’ by heart. It’s a rookie mistake on your part to give him cold water, but you don’t have time to chastise yourself. By the time you grab the small trash bin by the computer desk, Hank’s already leaning on his knees.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

You shove the empty trash bin in face. As anticipated, he wrenches his guts up into the bin. You sigh. Being the mom friend you are, you’ve done this so much you don’t even a bat an eye. When he’s done, you sit the bin on the floor at his feet.

“Wait here, okay?”

You go to the kitchen and wet a few paper towels, ringing them in the sink. You don’t have time to dig around for a hand towel. You shake one out as you go back into the living room. Hank is slumped back onto the couch with his arm over his eyes. The bin is still between his knees.

“Hey,” You say softly. “Wipe your face off.”

He grunts at you but finally moves his arm to grab the wet paper towel you hold out to him. As he wipes his face, you shake out the other two in order to fold them. He sits back up, groaning and cradling his head. You move his hand and place the folded towels against his forehead, candling his hand back over them once in place.

“This will do for now,” you tell him in a hushed tone. “You need to lay down, Hank. It’ll pass soon but you got to rest.”

“You didn’t sign up for this.” He says as he cuts his eyes to you.

“It’s fine.”

You take the one towel he wiped his face with and toss it in the bin. You’re going to have to clean it shortly.  

“Sorry. About this.”

“I said it’s okay, Hank,” you repeat almost sternly. He’s so stubborn sometimes. “Stop worrying. I’m going to order pizza when they open. It will help settle your stomach. Pepperoni okay?”

He rolls his eyes. “Who taught you that?”

“I learned that in college. You want to go to your room? Or do you want to stay in here?”

“I’ll go on my own.”

He tries to shoo you away but you won’t budge. You take the wet paper towels off his forehead and toss them into the bin. You help him up, Hank grumbling the entire time. You walk with him to his room, stopping by the bathroom when he feels the urge to wrench again. You notice despite his clammy skin, he turns pink when he sits on the bed.

“Hank,” you say softly, placing your hand on his shoulder. “Try to relax. You’ll make yourself feel worse if you don’t.”

“You shouldn’t be fussing over me.” He grumbles.

“Lay down you big baby.” You shove him softly. “It’s dark in here, you can sleep some of this off.”

He grunts and reluctantly manvers under his duvet. You straighten out the blanket over him. Hank seems to be taking your advice, closing his eyes and relaxing into the bed. You study him for a moment. You’ve always thought Hank was handsome.

You can’t help yourself.

You lean over him, carding your hands slowly through his hair. It’s thick but soft against your fingers, gliding around them smoothly as you brush them back. He hums softly but doesn’t open his eyes.

“You rest. Call for me if you need me.”

When he doesn’t respond, you slip out of his room. You leave the door cracked just in case. Your first task is cleaning and bleaching the bin. You quickly find the bleach under the sink and get to work. Once you’re done, you let Sumo out and order delivery.

You check on Hank a few more times throughout the day. He stays mostly in bed. You wake him once to drink some water. Lukewarm this time as not to shock his system. You forgo making him eat; the water makes him wince, but thankfully not puke.

“I’m going to text Con to get you a Gatorade. What kind you want?”

“Clear red.” He mutters, rubbing his forehead.

“That is not a flavor.” You look at him skeptically.

“He’ll know what it fuckin is.” He grumbles, slipping back down onto his pillow.

You leave him be and grab your phone. Connor replies that ‘clear red’ is what Hank calls the G2 Fruit Punch.

Whatever that means.

As it gets closer to the time Connor said he’d be home, you check on Hank one last time. He’s still feeling sick but drinks the water you give him with ease. He lays back and looks at you through half-lidded eyes.

“You’re beautiful you know that?” He mutters.

“I do.” You card his hair again as you sit on the edge of the bed.

“Good.” He hums, eyes closed. “You need too.”

“You’re beautiful too. Maybe you can take me out sometime.”

You mean it. Hank probably won’t remember it, but you mean every syllable of it.

“A waste,” he tries to smirk. “Pretty thing like you with an old wash up like me.”

“Hm. You’re not as washed up as you think. When you’re sober a year, you better take me out.” That’s fair, you think. Even if he won’t remember it. “Promise?”

“Sure.”

You linger on his bed longer than you know you should. You wish Hank would see what you see. You can’t help but smirk knowing you can’t bribe him with beer anymore to mow your yard for you. You definitely can’t bribe him with a six pack to walk you through, for the hundredth time, how to change your car oil. You wonder if he knows you’re faking at this point. That you know what you’re doing, but you’re just looking for an excuse to be around him.

His slow breathing let’s you know he’s sleeping again. You quietly stand, resisting the urge to kiss his forehead. You take one last glance, smiling at how peaceful he is. You say a thankful prayer that he’s sleeping through this. You exit his room to be greeted by Sumo, tennis ball in his mouth.

By the time Connor returns home, Sumo is worn from playing all day and Hank is still sleeping. You’re reading on the tablet when you hear the door open. Sumo’s ears perk but he doesn’t budge from the spot at your feet.  

“I see Hank is currently asleep.” Connor says when he enters the living room.

You eye the grocery bag he sits on the table. You see why Hank calls the Gatorade ‘clear red’. Connor straightens up and pauses, looking around the room before bringing his gaze back to you.

“I’m sorry you had clean up such a mess. I predicted his chances of nausea to be 65%. I should have warned you.”

“It’s not a big a deal,” You smile. “Nothing I haven’t encountered before.”

“Thank you.” Connor says it quickly and there’s a heavy sense of sincerity in his voice. “You didn’t have to stay and I greatly appreciate it.”

“I’m always happy to help, Connor. You guys are like family.” You out the tablet on the table and stand. “Is there anything else I can do while I’m here?”

“You’ve done more than enough. Especially with it being your day off.”

“Well, like I said, it’s no big deal,” you shrug. “There’s pizza for when sleeping beauty wakes and is up to it. He hasn’t eaten all day.”

“I’ll ensure Hank eats something shortly.”

You go to the kitchen and grab your bag. Connor watches you, not moving from his spot. You kneel down and scratch Sumo’s ears one more time.

“You be a good boy, Sumo.” You tell him. You give Connor another smile. “Text me if you need me. I’m right next door.”

“Duly noted.”

Connor waves as you head out the door. You tried not to linger by the Lieutenant’s door on your way out. When you get into your house, you _definitely_ don’t try to think about his delusional promise. You focus instead on throwing out all beer he either left with you or you bought him. Besides, Hank won’t even remember you were there in his room.

If you only knew how wrong you were.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry this took so long. I might expand it later and up the rating but for now it remains. I am not an expert on alcohol withdrawals even if my dad is an alcoholic lol.


End file.
